The unseeing gypsy juggled and answered each inquiry. 

Simultaneously.

[color=39b54a]“Lady Eva knows.”[/color] He pitched each of the burrowing larvae onto the forest’s topsoil as the goblet hovered. [color=39b54a]“The seer who has prophesied both deaths of our Prince Von Zarovich. You are not the first to be called upon by Her.”[/color] Tremors abruptly inaugurated writhing insects constructing sultry steeds, mostly coalesced by worms. Slowly the squirming institution of six charcoal horses emerged. All equipped with a midnight-black saddle, stirrups and reigns. A quartet of helical extremities constantly shifted under the pugnacious thoraces of the still mounts, swirling like tornadoes born from a nascent thunderstorm. Whilst the ocular orbits were adorned with a pair of crimson beetles whose posterior wings served as scarlet eyelids, that never opened.

[color=39b54a]“Hopefully, you will be the last. Markus, please escort our friends to the gates.”[/color]

The mouthless proprietor of the cup finally materialized in plain sight, shedding his invisibility and hopping swiftly onto the leading mare.

Many of the Vistani began to evaporate once again into the mist, silently in the direction of their wagons. Starovir birthed parting words, before embracing the silvery air.

[color=39b54a]“Until we meet again.”[/color]